


Take Me Deeper

by Unforth



Series: Prompt Ficlets: Supernatural [29]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bondage, Bottom Dean, Dildos, Dom Castiel, Dom/sub, Facials, Hand Jobs, Impaling, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Praise Kink, Sex Toys, Size Kink, Sub Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 10:44:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14975513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unforth/pseuds/Unforth
Summary: Tumblr ficlet written to the prompt: I have this new kink called Impaling. There's multiple ways to do it, but basically the sub is suspended over a large dildo and lowered down onto it. I've seen videos where he's tied to a cross, and the bar holding his arms is slowly lowered, and I've also seen where he's just suspended from the ceiling, but a pile of books are put under his feet. One book is removed at a time, lowering him an inch or so. There's a lot of body trembles, leaking cocks, and moaning and it's SO HOT. But the Dom has to be suuuuuuuper careful not to hurt the sub.





	Take Me Deeper

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ltleflrt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ltleflrt/gifts).



> Uh this got long. And I'm not sorry.  
> (as a note, I don't usually edit this tumblr prompt ficlets, so I'm sorry if there are some typographical errors, but even when they get long like this one did, these are meant as a writing exercise for me and I don't want to spend too long on any one story. I hope ya'll can forgive me for that...)

_Clink, clank_.

The chain lowered one link.

The blunt tip of the large toy abutted Dean’s hole but didn’t penetrate him.

Castiel’s brow knitted with concentration as he stared at the winch he’d set up in their playroom.

Dean was _so close_ to being spread open. Eying Castiel, noting his inattention to Dean’s behavior, Dean chanced a wiggle of his hips.

“Don’t move!” snapped Castiel.

 _Clink, clank_.

The chain raised one ring and Dean whimpered unhappily. The slickened silicon was a thick weight between his cheeks, so near and yet so far.

Castiel’s powerful thumb and forefinger seized Dean’s cheeks, forced their faces together. Fuck, Castiel was fast. Dean hadn’t even noticed him crossing the room, too disappointed at being denied the cock he craved.

“We talked about this, boy,” Castiel growled. His eyes flashed as they caught the stark white light of the overhead flourescents. “This is _dangerous_ , and if you can’t keep still, I _will_ end this scene, and you will see Kingdom Come before I grant you release once more. Do you understand?” Dean pouted out an agreeing smile. Castiel’ thumb dug into his flesh. “ _Answer me_.”

_That’s going to bruise._

_Fuck yeah, this is what I needed._

“Yes, sir,” Dean answered begrudgingly. Castiel dropped his face, pushing Dean aside like so much trash, and returned to winch.

_Clink, clank._

Dean gasped as he dropped. The hard bench supported his feet and his lower legs, the spreader bar to which his arms were bound supported him aloft, and his ass hovered over the toy.

_Clink, clank._

The dildo punched into him and Dean gasped. A burst of pleasure illuminated his senses, only to fade to inadequacy. Not even an inch of cock filled his hole and it wasn’t enough, wasn’t nearly enough. Instinct cried for Dean to squirm, to drop, to fill himself, but Castiel watched him critically and Dean gave him a benign smile, awkwardly wiggling the fingers of one bound hand in a mocking wave ‘hello.’

Castiel smiled like he wanted to devour Dean.

Oh hell, Dean was up for one hell of a night.

Castiel circled him, watched him, assessed him. His trench coat flared about his legs with every step he took, emphasizing that he was clothed, that he was in control, that Dean was only so much meat beneath Castiel’s dispassionate gaze. Dean was naked, bound, skin slicked to a sheen with oil, thick collar tight around his neck. When they were out on a date, when they were cuddling in bed, when they settled in for Netflix and chill, Dean wore no collar and his boyfriend was just Cas, but when they were in a scene, when Dean was _owned_ , his dom was Castiel, angel of the Lord, and let holy fire rain down if Dean ever dared for get it.

Time stretched out, endless. Dean’s insides itched, an unquenchable need burning beneath his skin, and his anus fluttered around the tip of the toy. He needed so much more, craved so much more, but he could wait, he could be good, he could behave.

“Better,” Castiel conceded begrudgingly. The warmth of Castiel’s approval spread like hope and satisfaction through Dean’s insides as Castiel returned to the winch.

_Clink, clank._

Another inch filled him and Dean moaned. Castiel shot him a warning look and Dean trembled with the effort of keeping as still as he could. The bar supporting him swayed, rocking him from side to side but offering him no deeper penetration. The tip of the dildo _just_ brushed his prostate, but after the initial inadequate burst of pleasure he felt little more. He needed movement, he needed friction, he need thrusts, and instead he got nothing. Castiel kept him dangling long after Dean’s restraints ceased to move, long after the first tears pooled in his eyes. No praise was offered, no commiseration, no taunting.

Castiel watched him critically.

And Dean was _desperate_ to satisfy Castiel.

If only his body would continue to obey him.

_Clink, clank._

Dean bit his lip against a broken groan as his knees hit the bench beneath him and his ass spread over the thickening toy. Fuck, but it was _big_ , hardness pressing against his insides, opening him so wide, giving him no satisfaction. He needed, God, he _needed_ , surely Castiel would understand if he just--

“Dean!”

\--but of course, no. Expecting mercy from Castiel was like expecting water from a stone. No - with a miracle from Christ almighty Himself a stone might be cracked to produce an oasis but Castiel? Castiel never cracked. He _demanded_ obedience, and Dean had never disappointed him.,

_What if this is the first time? What if I fail this challenge and he doesn’t want me anymore?_

Dean couldn’t risk that. Castiel was his dom, his boyfriend, his...his…

...he couldn’t say it, couldn’t think it…

Dean _needed_ Castiel.

Setting his jaw, Dean tightened his muscles and kept still, kept still, kept still, glaring defiance at his tormentor.

Castiel smiled.

_Clink, clank._

_Oh, God_.

The good feeling of being thoroughly and well fucked was so close and yet so far. The toy was enormous and promised so much satisfaction, not one iota of which was delivered. Tears pooled in Dean’s eyes. His muscles screamed with the strain of the long wait, his shoulders straining to hold up his body weight. Sweat beaded over his chest, dripped in rivulets over his belly, caught in the pubic hair curled at the base of his hard cock. Pre-come leaked from Dean’s slit. His ass clenched, relaxed, clenched, but the pleasure the slight movements caused was fleeting and inadequate. Castiel paced around the bench, arms folded behind his back, pants tented over his erection.

_If he’s hard, he must be happy with my performance, right?_

_Maybe...maybe he’ll let me move? Sometime? Soon?_

_Please?_

“Not yet, Dean,” Castiel murmured.

Fuck, Dean must have spoken aloud.

Twin tears streaked down his cheeks.

_Is he angry that I asked for more? Is he upset?_

Castiel’s tone, his expression, his knit brow, gave nothing away, but he walked to the winch once more.

_Clink, clank._

A sob tore out of Dean, his hips seizing involuntarily to thrust him once up and down against the cock. Castiel barked a warning, words lost on Dean but tone unmistakable, and with another sob he stilled himself. Liquid blurred his vision, Castiel naught but an indistinct blog of tan and black and white. Dean tried to restrain his cries but he couldn’t. Need burned like acid through his guts, his cock twitching unsatisfied in the still air. He was so _hot_ , so horny, so full, and yet so unsatisfied he could hardly stand it. Desperation whispered poison in his mind, that he needed, surely Castiel could see how Dean needed - surely if Dean cracked, Castiel would understand, would forgive him, comfort him, take care of him.

Dean’s vision cleared to show him Castiel’s face inches from his own.

There wasn’t a trace of forgiveness in his hard eyes.

Dean wept, snot and tears and spit dripping from his chin.

But he didn’t move.

_Clink, clank._

“Oh God, sir!” Dean cried. Castiel chuckled. Dean’s fingers scrambled at his restraints but he was helpless, arms bound, but his legs were free - only his word, on Castiel’s command, kept Dean from lifting himself up and thrusting back down.

_What is Castiel to me? Who is he to stop me? I need to be fucked, I need this cock to move, I need so much, and if he doesn’t know that…_

_...no, but more than any of that, I need Castiel, I need to be good, I need him to tell me - why doesn’t he tell me? Am I doing badly? What did I do wrong? Please, Castiel, please--_

“Sir, please, sir, please, please, please, _please_ …”

Castiel’s firm grip seized his face once more, pain blossoming as Castiel’s thumb dug once more into the place he’d already bruised. Castiel lifted Dean’s face, turned him from side to side with a critical expression.

“If you think I’m going to let you fuck yourself yet, you’re very much mistaken, boy,” Castiel growled.

“ _No_!” Dean gasped. Castiel started. “That’s not - that’s not what I need, that’s not...Cas - Castiel - please, sir, I need you to...need…”

How could Castiel force him to _say_ it? Another sob wracked Dean, tugged at his bindings, offered just enough satisfaction to his ass to leave him desperate for more movement.

“Please!”

“Shh,” murmured Castiel. Rough fingers brushed soothing, kindly, over Dean’s cheeks. “Be good, and I’ll take care of you.”

“Please, Cas...sir…” _Am I not good? Will you not take care of me?_ The words wouldn’t come.

“Breathe, Dean,” Castiel breathed in his ear. Dean shuddered, bliss spiking through him only to fade away. “You’re doing so well. Can you take a little more for me?”

_No!!!_

_Yes. Yes I can. I can do whatever Castiel needs me to do, because he’s my angel, my dom, my_ love _...he’s mine, and I’m his..._

Biting off the denial, Dean nodded weakly.

_Clink, clank._

Dean’s awareness of anything beyond his body fell away. He was burning up on the inside, his skin soaked and clammy and aflame, his insides throbbing with unsatisfied need. The dildo was an anchor buried deep in his ass, a solid point of reality, an unfulfilled promise.

Dean _needed_ to the promise to be fulfilled.

And the only way to do get what he needed was to be everything that Castiel needed.

Concentration kept Dean still, kept him focused, kept him lost in sensation. The only sounds were the rush of his blood in his ears, the rasp of breath in his throat, and the desperate begging that might have been in his head, might have been leaking from his mouth. His senses were dissipated, except that he felt, fuck, he felt _so damn much_.

“Open your eyes.”

Castiel’s deep voice, commanding, controlling, was a bolt through Dean’s reality, as solid as the toy spitting him. Disobeying was inconceivable. Blinking gunk from his lids, Dean obeyed. He was too spent to lift his head but he lolled to the side to focus on Castiel standing before him, still clothed, but the flush of his cheeks betrayed his arousal as surely as his concealed erection did.

“Good boy,” Castiel said warmly, and Dean _glowed_.

Castiel strode to him, stepped onto the bench, centered his crotch directly before Dean’s face. One hand lowered his fly, the _zzz_ of it going down prenaturally loud, and Castiel’s other hand slipped in and withdrew his hard cock. Liquid overflowed Dean’s eyes as he watched, enraptured, as Castiel stroked his flushed length, stroked, stroked, stroked, and then came with a deep groan. Sticky come splashed onto Dean’s face, tangled in his hair, coated his tongue. Dean could only watch in awe, could only try to blink his vision clear so as not to miss anything. Castiel stroked himself again, squeezed the head of his cock to dribble out the last few precious drops, then reached over and mussed Dean’s hair.

“One more for me?” asked Castiel, raspy and sated.

“Anything for you,” Dean managed.

“So, so good.”

The bench rattled as Castiel hopped down. Dean’s vision went in and out of focus and he surrendered, letting his eyes slip shut. The come was hot and wonderful on his face, his mouth slicked with musk, and Dean felt as replete as if he’d come himself.

_Clink, clank._

Dean howled to be stuffed so full. His muscles were spent from his struggles. He couldn’t tense himself to keep from moving but it didn’t matter; he couldn’t have moved if his life depended on it. Sobbing, he slumped against the restraints, the bench, slumped against the dildo filling him.

Heat unfolded his back.

A hand cupped his aching cock.

Breath streamed, cool and refreshing over his ear.

“Take what you need,” said Castiel.

Dean slumped against _Castiel_.

There were no thrusts, no grand movements. Dean was so tired, so hot, so replete. He wiggled, but his senses were so overwhelmed by sustained, inadequate pleasure that he hardly felt the additional stimulation. He needed to come, needed to obey Castiel, _needed_ , but he couldn’t.

“Help me.”

The greatest relief, the greatest satisfaction, was that confessing his need no longer hurt.

Castiel understood.

Castiel took care of him.

Castiel was there for him.

Castiel wouldn’t leave him.

The weight of Castiel’s hips behind his pivoted, shifted Dean’s ass against the toy, and Castiel’s hand gently cupped Dean’s cock and stroked him. Dean dropped his head limp on Castiel’s shoulder behind him and let Castiel guide him. Every small thrust was enormous, every brush against his cock divine, and Dean whimpered and twitched through what might have been a lifetime of climaxes, or might not have been an orgasm at all. He couldn’t tell, and he didn’t care.

He’d been good.

He’d earned his reward.

And he felt _incredible_.

“My Dean - my perfect, obedient, dutiful, splendid boy,” Castiel breathed.

Rapture enveloped Dean.

Reality fell away.

_Clink, clank. Clink, clank. Clink, clank. Clink, clank. Clink, clank. Clink, clank. Clink, clank. Clink, clank. Clink, clank. Clink, clank. Clink, clank._

Dean dangled, floating on air, floating on a spread bar, a dopey pleased smile his face. Arms enfolded him, lowered him, his arms dropping to his sides, skin slapping skin. Castiel supported him, held him gently, held him like his precious, and whispered praise in Dean’s ear. Dean couldn’t understand him but Castiel’s tone was like a soft blanket on a chill night, snug and comfortable, and Dean nuzzled weakly at Castiel’s neck.

“Always so cuddly after a scene,” said Castiel...said _Cas_...fondly.

“Was I good?” Dean murmured.

“You were fantastic. You must know I’m yours, Dean. Always.”

Warmth and pleasure suffused through Dean, leaving him aglow once more.

Castiel was right. It had been a _fantastic_ scene. Castiel had been amazing, as he was always amazing.

“When can we do that again?”

“Whenever you want, darling.” Castiel threaded fingers through his hair, rubbed his back, carried him laboriously out of their playroom. “Your wish is my command.”

Castiel supported him.

“Soon,” said Dean happily as Castiel lowered him onto their bed. “Very soon.”

Castiel smiled and nodded.

Castiel _always_ supported him.

“I love you.”

And Castiel glowed under Dean’s praise.

 _Together_ , they glowed.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Tumblr! [unforth-ninawaters](http://unforth-ninawaters.tumblr.com).


End file.
